67
by Kutsushita-Socks
Summary: Because escape is always temporary and only nightmares come true. Kyo, Akito, Yuki. Oneshot.


**Somewhat AU in that Tohru has never existed [sorry…]. Male Akito. Inspired by chapter 63. I really don't know what was going through my head when I wrote this [Yuki is seme?!] AND I BUTCHERED THEIR CHARACTERS AGAIN, AHAHAHAHA…**

* * *

Kyo missed dawn.

He missed - he missed the breeze and clouds, and what grass felt like and streets with cars on and "would you like fries with that" and windowpanes, and school uniforms, and he missed snow and summer and people asking him the time-

But even without all that, he missed sitting on the roof with the birds singing around him, and watching the sun emerge from the night.

(He had tried to kid himself he was not at peace, but he had never been a liar.)

At first, when his clockwork had still been ticking (valiantly) away, he had counted. Counted the days in ragged scratches on the wall.

They taunted him now, sixty-seven of them, tattooed into his mind just as much as they had been in the stone. Kyo remembered why he had stopped counting, and if he hadn't been numb he would have drawn his thin white yukata closer around him, and shivered.

(It was not cold or hot, just as there was no time. Kyo assumed _he_ had designed the room to feel nonexistent, because it was working.)

The jarring music of jangling keys and the disturbingly loud clunk of the lock made his heart beat a little faster, because he knew it was Akito.

"Kyo."

Robotically, he shuffled round to face the door, met by the black silhouette which he had come to (hate? no – he couldn't feel, because he was a monster –) Akito's footsteps echoed across the room and Kyo averted his eyes.

(At this moment in _nothing, _the floor looked the same as it had the last time he had checked…)

"Why don't you look at me, Kyo…?" purred that _voice, _and robotically, Kyo looked up into the slanted (beautiful) black eyes.

"That's better, isn't it?" said Akito as he sank down next to his prisoner in a swish of crumpling black kimono. "Isn't that better?"

"…it is… better." His voice was out of practice. It didn't sound like birdsong.

(It probably never had.)

"It's been a whole week since I last came to see you, Kyo. Doesn't time fly?"

Kyo wondered (robotically) whether he would ever be stabbed by a knife as _cold_ as Akito. "I don't… count," he said. "I don't count time."

If Kyo was the monster, Akito's giggle must be that of an angel (or of God.) "I forgot! You told me that before, didn't you, Kyo?" Two slim fingers rested on the collarbone of the _monster._

"You stopped counting from _that _day, didn't you?" Akito's other hand moved up to cup Kyo's face, and he smiled. "You are an _ugly_ creature," he said, and his fingernails brushed the monster's neck softly, as if to slit it.

Kyo was silent. He did not look at the face of (god?) He told himself he couldn't feel the touches on his skin, and he wasn't sure whether he was lying.

"Ahh. This is boring, isn't it? It was more fun when you fought _back._" Akito's hand slid down into Kyo's yukata, touching, digging sharp nails into skin pale from years underground. "I said it's _boring!" _he cried suddenly, clawing viciously into Kyo's ribcage, smiling at the delicate streaks of crimson on his fingers as he retracted his hand. He held them up to Kyo's face and giggled as the monster's nostrils flared.

"Why don't you lick it, Kyo? You're a monster, aren't you? You're _my _monster." Akito's face, Kyo had noticed dully, only looked alive when he was hurting someone.

His eyes were blank and veiled. He observed (robotically) that under the taste of blood, Akito smelled like… (no, he refused to even think that name. Numbness only lasts so long.)

"I really do love you, Kyo. I'll make sure… you're not _lonely._"

Akito's fingers dug into the back of Kyo's neck as he pushed the (monster) down to the floor and, as he pulled open the yukata, whispered in his ear.

_"You're **mine."**_

* * *

Kyo was thinking about clocks as he lay sprawled where Akito had left him, wearing nothing but the thin white yukata thrown over his (clammy) waist.

He wondered numbly if having a clock in this room would be something he should want. He wondered if the endless_ tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick _would be a good thing (a friend). He wondered if it would drive him mad. (Madder.)

He wondered. Robotically.

He did not look at the sixty-seven scratches on the wall and he did not think about Akito.

* * *

The jarring music of jangling keys and the disturbingly loud clunk of the lock made his heart beat a little faster, because he knew it was Akito.

"Kyo."

…That was not Akito's voice.

He looked up into violet eyes and felt as though his mind was shattering like glass.

"Yuki…?"

Yuki's footsteps across the room were quiet (just like Akito's) but they were not the menacing, predatory (monstrous?) quiet that had stalked Kyo so many times before.

(sixty-seven was the first)

The crumple of cloth pulled Kyo back to the present, where Yuki knelt next to him. It was only then Kyo noticed the scratch over the rat's eye and the purpling bruise on his jawline (the same colour as his eyes.)

"What are you-?!"

A cold finger pressed to his lips stopped his mouth, and his eyes were wide.

"I didn't come here for you to yell at me, Kyo," said Yuki (a lie.) He pulled his hand back, leaving Kyo staring at him.

"How has Akito been treating you?" asked Yuki, his voice very quiet, his gaze piercing.

"…from the looks of it," he said slowly, his voice a little stiff again (it had been three days since he had screamed-) "about the same as he's been treating you." His eyes lingered on Yuki's injuries, and on the barely noticeable (but oh-so-telling) dullness of his eyes.

"I think you've got smarter," said Yuki after a moment's pause, and Kyo glared at him.

"Don't act so high-and-mighty, idiot," he snapped, and then his words stumbled (because this familiarity would send him mad-)

"…you stopped," said Yuki softly. "How much has this place changed you…?"

"You-!" Kyo's hands curled into fists; beneath his suddenly flickering anger was nothing but emptiness. "What, you thought I'd stay exactly the same? I haven't been outside this _room_ in-"

(sixty seven)

"-don't even know how long, the only one who-" unexpectedly, he choked on his words, a lump coming to his throat, "-ever visits is…"

He buried his face in his palms. His eyelids were pressed against his wrists and a firework display for him alone erupted behind closed curtains.

"Akito?" asked Yuki, but it wasn't a question. There was a silence. Kyo spoke without moving, his voice muffled.

"You… you're just… Akito's _pet. _At least I – have some dignity left, no matter what he… you're just his toy!"

(a pause)

"You're right. I am Akito's toy. But if you think you have a shred more dignity left than me, you're deluded."

"Shut up!" he (sobbed), pulling himself into a tighter ball.

"I won't," said Yuki, leaning in and placing a hand on Kyo's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Flinching away exposed his face (they were _not _tears-) and then very suddenly Yuki's hand was tangled in his hair and their lips were pressed together.

(Kyo told himself it was _shock _that let him pause a few seconds before pulling away.)

"What the _fuck-"_

"I didn't come here to hurt you, Kyo."

"Then what the hell _did _you come here for?!"

"…Various reasons."

For Kyo, this anger was freeing – (it almost made him forget)

"What reasons?! Go back to Akito's bed – "

"Be quiet," said Yuki softly, and (shocking himself) Kyo obeyed.

Yuki's eyes pulled Kyo back to watching the purple dawn bleed into a winter sky.

Yuki's body felt very thin as it embraced him.

The floor wasn't as cold as it had been before, or maybe it was the fact that he was touching a _human _(and not a monster?)

"Yuki-" he gasped brokenly as needle-soft hair and sandpaper-smooth hands brushed his body.

His voice didn't sound like birdsong.

(It probably never had.)

* * *

**FIN/**

**in my mind, Kyo commits suicide after the end of this. but you can interpret it however you like.**


End file.
